Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 50: Chapter 50
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Before I could think of what to say, Elodie raised her little hand and tugged at Arnold's clothes, "Uncle, what are you talking about?"
Arnold looked down, his gaze falling on Elodie's face, "Elodie, you should call me Daddy."
"Ah?"
Elodie raised her hand to the watch she was talking on: "Mommy, there's an uncle telling me to call him Daddy, should I?"
Arnold was instantly stunned.
Then, a woman's voice came from the other end of the call: "Elodie, the uncle is just joking with you. Mommy is already at the door, just wait for Mommy to come."
Arnold frowned, "You were just on a phone call?"
Elodie nodded seriously, "Yes, Elodie missed Mommy so much, so I called Mommy to ask when she would come. Uncle, why should Elodie call you Daddy? Are you Elodie's daddy?"
She was too smart, always remembering not to let Arnold discover the truth—perfect acting.
I watched Arnold staring at the call watch, his eyes becoming even sharper.
At this moment, the servant's voice came from the door: "Sir, Elodie's mother has arrived and is at the door."
Arnold's expression instantly darkened.
He plummeted from ecstasy to disappointment, his heart heavy as if falling into an ice cave.
My back was already soaked.
Afraid Clara couldn't get in, I had Elodie call first to check the situation.
It seemed Arnold had only heard their phone conversation.
Good thing I was careful and cautious.
My heart pounding, I secretly averted my gaze toward the door.
The servant led Clara in, and we secretly made eye contact.
She keenly sensed the subtle atmosphere in the room but showed no trace of nervousness on her face.
Arnold looked up at her, his expression as cold as if she had stolen his child.
Clara nervously clenched her hands and walked over to take Elodie's little hand.
Elodie happily called "Mommy."
Clara said to Arnold: "Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't watch my child properly and caused you so much trouble. Thank you so much for taking care of Elodie."
Arnold suspiciously sized her up.
The earlier misunderstanding had left his face cold as frost.
"You still know to worry about your child?"
Clara blinked, "Sir, of course I worry about my own child."
Arnold was silent for a while, the atmosphere so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
He secretly glanced at me.
He then asked: "Why did the child come to New York alone?"
My heart tightened, knowing this question would have to be faced sooner or later.
Clara quickly answered: "Elodie came to find her father."
Arnold silently indicated for her to continue.
"Elodie's father is in New York. I told her about it, and she's always wanted to meet her father. I'm usually busy with work, and yesterday I didn't watch her closely, so she came by herself."
Arnold frowned, "You mean your child bought her own ticket, went to the airport by herself, and boarded the plane by herself?"
"Yes, there's nothing strange about it. Elodie doesn't have a father, so I've cultivated her independence since she was small."
In this question and answer exchange, Clara's responses were flawless.
I secretly watched Arnold, afraid I'd see suspicion flash in his eyes.
After a long silence, Arnold asked again: "What's the child's father's name? I can help her find him."
I was stunned.
This was a test!
Arnold never meddled in others' affairs.
Clara swallowed, "No need, I have no relationship with him anymore and don't want to see him. Elodie doesn't have that bastard father either. But thank you for your kindness, and thank you for taking care of Elodie."
Arnold ignored this, took out his phone, his gaze falling on the call log, and asked: "Is your phone turned off 24 hours?"
He had called me many times, and I hadn't answered once.
I instinctively touched the phone in my pocket.
Watching Arnold's actions, I knew he was suspicious and wanted to call to verify.
Because when we first met, he suspected that the person who answered the phone and the person who picked up Elodie were not the same.
Sure enough, I saw him dial a number and place the phone on the table—it was my number.
The air froze terrifyingly.
The next second, the phone in my pocket rang.
Arnold's eyes, sharp as a hawk's, fell directly on me.
That scrutinizing and suspicious gaze made time stretch into an endless second.
I had trouble breathing, my hands pressed tight against my body, clenched with anxiety.
The ringtone rang for a few seconds before Arnold asked coldly: "Go ahead. Answer it."
Arnold looked down, his gaze falling on Elodie's face, "Elodie, you should call me Daddy."
"Ah?"
Elodie raised her hand to the watch she was talking on: "Mommy, there's an uncle telling me to call him Daddy, should I?"
Arnold was instantly stunned.
Then, a woman's voice came from the other end of the call: "Elodie, the uncle is just joking with you. Mommy is already at the door, just wait for Mommy to come."
Arnold frowned, "You were just on a phone call?"
Elodie nodded seriously, "Yes, Elodie missed Mommy so much, so I called Mommy to ask when she would come. Uncle, why should Elodie call you Daddy? Are you Elodie's daddy?"
She was too smart, always remembering not to let Arnold discover the truth—perfect acting.
I watched Arnold staring at the call watch, his eyes becoming even sharper.
At this moment, the servant's voice came from the door: "Sir, Elodie's mother has arrived and is at the door."
Arnold's expression instantly darkened.
He plummeted from ecstasy to disappointment, his heart heavy as if falling into an ice cave.
My back was already soaked.
Afraid Clara couldn't get in, I had Elodie call first to check the situation.
It seemed Arnold had only heard their phone conversation.
Good thing I was careful and cautious.
My heart pounding, I secretly averted my gaze toward the door.
The servant led Clara in, and we secretly made eye contact.
She keenly sensed the subtle atmosphere in the room but showed no trace of nervousness on her face.
Arnold looked up at her, his expression as cold as if she had stolen his child.
Clara nervously clenched her hands and walked over to take Elodie's little hand.
Elodie happily called "Mommy."
Clara said to Arnold: "Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't watch my child properly and caused you so much trouble. Thank you so much for taking care of Elodie."
Arnold suspiciously sized her up.
The earlier misunderstanding had left his face cold as frost.
"You still know to worry about your child?"
Clara blinked, "Sir, of course I worry about my own child."
Arnold was silent for a while, the atmosphere so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
He secretly glanced at me.
He then asked: "Why did the child come to New York alone?"
My heart tightened, knowing this question would have to be faced sooner or later.
Clara quickly answered: "Elodie came to find her father."
Arnold silently indicated for her to continue.
"Elodie's father is in New York. I told her about it, and she's always wanted to meet her father. I'm usually busy with work, and yesterday I didn't watch her closely, so she came by herself."
Arnold frowned, "You mean your child bought her own ticket, went to the airport by herself, and boarded the plane by herself?"
"Yes, there's nothing strange about it. Elodie doesn't have a father, so I've cultivated her independence since she was small."
In this question and answer exchange, Clara's responses were flawless.
I secretly watched Arnold, afraid I'd see suspicion flash in his eyes.
After a long silence, Arnold asked again: "What's the child's father's name? I can help her find him."
I was stunned.
This was a test!
Arnold never meddled in others' affairs.
Clara swallowed, "No need, I have no relationship with him anymore and don't want to see him. Elodie doesn't have that bastard father either. But thank you for your kindness, and thank you for taking care of Elodie."
Arnold ignored this, took out his phone, his gaze falling on the call log, and asked: "Is your phone turned off 24 hours?"
He had called me many times, and I hadn't answered once.
I instinctively touched the phone in my pocket.
Watching Arnold's actions, I knew he was suspicious and wanted to call to verify.
Because when we first met, he suspected that the person who answered the phone and the person who picked up Elodie were not the same.
Sure enough, I saw him dial a number and place the phone on the table—it was my number.
The air froze terrifyingly.
The next second, the phone in my pocket rang.
Arnold's eyes, sharp as a hawk's, fell directly on me.
That scrutinizing and suspicious gaze made time stretch into an endless second.
I had trouble breathing, my hands pressed tight against my body, clenched with anxiety.
The ringtone rang for a few seconds before Arnold asked coldly: "Go ahead. Answer it."
End of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness Chapter 50. Continue reading Chapter 51 or return to Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness book page.